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I like the idea of a shock collar being like training wheels for a whumpee.

It’s a big deal when whumper can finally switch it out for a silken new one or even a sturdy leather one. 

Imagine the reveal of a whumpee’s new collar. The praise they’d receive from the other whumpers at a fancy event—for being such a good boy. Perhaps it makes their skin crawl. Or maybe it makes them proud.

Imagine whumpers at the party seeing a pet with an ugly shock collar still locked around their neck and judging instantly. They know it’s been bad. Maybe the pet had messed up that week. Maybe it’d been a bit too clumsy or a bit too stupid. Maybe disobeyed orders, or god forbid tried to escape. Rumors spread quickly amongst a half-drunk, gossiping crowd. 

Whumper blames whumpee, of course, saying it’s all their fault. How bad they are for forcing whumper’s hand, for making them lock that ugly thing back around their pet’s throat. How useless and worthless they are, that they have to embarrass whumper like this. 

But they will wear their shame. And they will bear the painful consequences of that tempting little remote in whumper’s pocket. All. Night. Long. 

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You ever think about a “recovered” Whumpee getting arrested and freaking tf out

Handcuffs, forced into a car, strip searched, locked in a cell etc

Logically Whumpee knows this isn’t the same, they aren’t back there, but try telling PTSD that

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"I held out under torture once and you saw where it got me. Do you really think I'd do so again?"

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Whump Prompt List: Shock Collar

Caretaker working late into the night to remove a delicate but buggy device off of Whumpee's neck. They're tired, but it's more than worth it.

A half-strangled scream tore from Whumpee's throat. They keeled over, first onto their side, then writhing back and forth, clawing at the collar. Whumper merely walked up to them. They pushed the Whumpee over with their boot.

"Please." Defiant Whumpee uttered through gritted teeth, glaring upwards at Whumper. Whumper smiled, "Make it sweet.", before pressing down on the button.

Whumpee's shock collar was initially for barking dogs. They've grown quiet to avoid the pain.

Shocks were always paired with a simple command, down to the point that Whumpee could no longer even remember the word if they tried, the brain doing its best to block it all out. It was just another casualty of the past. It was, until Caretaker said the command-word.

Burn scars affected the skin around Whumpee's neck.

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what if we…. shipped our ocs together………  haha just    kidding..                               unless…? 

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New Expectations

Discussion of vampires and vampire hunters, nothing graphic

Oscar didn't understand.

This new place made no sense.

In Pepper Hollow, everything was clear. Oscar was a vampire, and therefore deserved to be tortured. Clear cause and effect, clear expectations, constant pain.

At least when the pain was constant, it was never shocking. Excruciating, sure, but never a surprise.

But now the only pain was the dull aches of old injuries trying to heal and the constant strains of being a vampire. The occasional tug of scar tissue when they shifted.

And, of course, the unbearable agony of uncertainty. Every kind word or action felt like a threat. Every freedom felt like a trap. They were being fed and cared for, left unmuzzled and unrestrained, allowed to heal and grow stronger, and yet there was nothing they could give or contribute to make up for it, no clear expectations.

It was terrifying.

What did they want?

They were still spending their time on the table they had first been placed on, despite Katy's offers of a bed. They had been placed on the table, after all. They didn't want to incur even more of a debt by taking a bed. Beds weren't for monsters.

The nest that Nightcaller had built for themself and Krrakateyen wormed its way into their mind. How they'd cuddled together, how comfortable and safe they had both seemed. They tried not to think about how desperately they wanted that.

They hadn't been held in so long.

Instead, they slowly tried to sit up, and then stand. Maybe cuddling with baby vampires was allowed, but certainly not for grown vamps. Wasn't worth wishing for things that would never happen.

Atrophied muscles protested angrily as they carefully stood and tried to take a few steps. It had been so long since they'd walked under their own power. They didn't remember the last time they had walked. It didn't even really hurt.

And then their knee gave out.

Somehow, Katy caught them just before they hit the ground.

"You were up! That's a great sign!"

"I collapsed," they replied bitterly as she helped them back to the table.

"But you were up. You took steps. That's a good sign."

They shrugged off her hands once they were safely sitting. She stayed standing there, waiting for … something? They didn't know. They didn't know what she wanted or what anyone wanted or why there were here or…

That they were crying, until Katy handed them a cloth to wipe their tears.

They endured torture for gods know how long, and falling, not even hitting the ground is what brought them to tears??

They weren't even hurt.

They had no reason to cry.

Just another debt they'd never be able to pay.

And Katy was just watching them, why? What was she looking for? What was she waiting for??

They took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm… I'm sufficiently healed. So whatever it is you're waiting to do to me… I'll survive it now." Surely, surely there was some other torment coming.

It can't be this easy.

Apparently that was not what she wanted to hear. She looked upset, sad, they realized, but she still didn't hurt them.

"Atlas rescued you, Oscar. No one here is going to hurt you."

She'd said that a hundred times, but it just Didn't Make Sense.

"I'm a vampire!" They snapped finally, showing their teeth, revealing their tiny, growing-in fangs. "It's all I'm good for. An immortal punching bag, an eternal training dummy."

Their breath hitched, but they continued. "I'll never be able to pay you back for all of this, I'm just a monster. So please, please stop pretending and get on with it. Do to me what you will."

The longer you treat me kindly, the worse it will hurt when you stop.

Katy was quiet for a long time, and Oscar didn't dare look at her.

"Is that what Krrakateyen deserves?"

They looked up at her, eyes wide and pleading. "No! No, gods no, please don't hurt them. They're just a child! They've never done anything wrong! They aren't old enough to know—"

"They're a vampire. And unlike you, they've bitten someone here." Katy's face was cold, smug. They'd never seen that look on her before. No. No, they couldn't let her hurt the child.

"But they're just a kid, they can't help it. Hurt me, not them, please. I can take it, I swear, please." And now they were crying again, damn it all. They pressed balled-up fists to their eyes as their breath shuddered.

Katy spoke again, softer this time. "What about me? Is that all I'm good for? An 'immortal punching bag'?"

The silence that followed hit them like a punch to the gut.

"Because that's what the hunters thought, two hundred years ago."

"But, but you're not a—"

"Yes, I am. I've been a vampire for two hundred years, ever since my wife lost control and attacked me."

Oscar just stared at the floor for a long time. What were they even supposed to say to that?

"You didn't notice because your vampirism is viral and mine is parasitic. Two different diseases, same presentation."

"But you're alive," they finally replied, their voice barely a whisper. When they looked up at her again, all the coldness in her eyes was gone.

"The parasite keeps me alive, yes. If it dies, I die, and vice versa."

"And everyone knows?" No one hates you for it?

She nodded. "Spruce saved me two hundred years ago from hunters, from adventurers, from their own friends. We started the Inn together. They've always known what I was. They never minded."

She sat next to them and placed a hand on their shoulder and they only flinched a little.

"You're just a kid too, Oscar. You didn't deserve anything they did to you."

Oscar shook their head, eyes shut tight. "No, I'm eighteen, I'm grown, I—" Their voice broke into a sob.

"You're just a kid. Not even twenty yet. Becoming a vampire wasn't your fault, it doesn't make you evil, and you never deserved to be hurt."

And now they were crying again, but they didn't resist as Katy pulled them in and held them close. She just rubbed their back, somehow avoiding all the spots that were still so tender, and promised them that they were finally safe.

They didn't believe her. But maybe they could try.

Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @littlebookworm69

Masterlist

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Maxim drinking from Carlos neck for the first time and/or Erik coming over for a visit? 👀👀

“Do you know that I know what I’m doing?” The Vampire asked.

Carlo nodded.

“Are you afraid?”

Carlo shook his head. “Not of you.”

The Vampire tilted the boy’s head back, turning his face to the side. It glided a finger down from his jaw, down and back to an inch below his left ear.

“Right here. No different than your wrists,” he soothed, but they both knew that wasn’t true.

Carlo felt woozy already, just thinking about the creature that was about to sink its scalpel-sharp fangs into his neck, so close to vital parts of him.

That instinctual recoil tried to rear its head like it used to, but he’d spent too long in this Vampire’s study curled in front of its fireplace being petted, fed, loved… the fear didn’t gain any ground.

“Just a pinch,” the Vampire said, watching its bloodbag’s eyes for doubt or fear one last time. “I’ve got you.”

When the bite came, it lit up his nerves in a different way than he was used to. It felt inescapable and more deadly, intimate and frightening despite himself.

The Vampire held him tightly, so he could not flinch or pull away in panic and hurt himself. With its free hand, it reached up and pinched the boy’s earlobe between its fingers gently. It’s okay, the gesture said. I’ve got you.

Carlo exhaled slowly, and relaxed into the bite.

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y’all are really missing out by not shipping you and your friends OCs together. Good for the soul, good for the economy.

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I will say, giving someone a slow-acting poison to which only you have the antidote is a classic for a reason. Good way to keep someone on a really long leash.

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Whumpee who finally started trusting Caretaker enough to doze off in their arms. But then something happens. Maybe caretaker moves too quickly. Maybe they touch Whumpee somewhere that triggers them. Suddenly they bolt upright and quickly move away with fear in their eyes. Putting as much space between them as they can while they frantically try to reassess if they're in danger again. All of that trust now gone in the blink of an eye due to just how skittish Whumpee still is.

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Cursed to be stuck inside this ancient amulet for years but you know I was kind of getting used to it. The solitude had eaten away just enough of my sanity that I'm pretty sure it only would've been a few more days before I started hallucinating some really neat shit.

But then. THEN. This fuckass twink descendant of my mortal enemies picks up my amulet. Takes right out of the sacred chamber. I guess it was finally a ruin now? Worse timing possible, too late to stop me going insane and right before the insanity could pay off.

So some clueless idiot is actually wearing me for the first time in centuries. I'm gonna wreck this dude's shit, I don't care if he is weirdly nice and kind of pretty in the face department. The second I accumulate enough power I'm breaking out of here and making him regret being born.

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You're telling me that demon's been sealed in a wizard's prison for hundreds of years?

That's unethical. We're breaking it out right now, get your coat.